One Year
by trarecar
Summary: Written for the Anniversary Challenge, this is a one-shot about Arlene's one year anniversary out of prison.  She's s thinking back to a frightening message she received from Eric Northman.


It had been one year to the day since she walked out of prison. Four years from now, when my probation is done, I'll celebrate, Arlene thought. Nothing to celebrate right now except that she was alive and so were her kids. Lisa and Coby counted on her to be strong. She'd already let them down as much as a mother can by making it so they had to live in foster care while she was locked up. It still tore at her heart, and she shook her head to toss those thoughts out. Livin' for the now, that's what I'm doing, Arlene thought to herself. Lord knows she can't rely on the future. Not after the visit she got from Eric Northman's human - servant? Whatever he is.

Scared the bejeezus out of her when he walked into The Pit Stop BBQ those few months back, coming straight up to her at a table and telling her she needed to speak to him now. She'd only been working there a week. It was an eight-top, and she'd been bustin' her tail for a good tip. Well, that didn't happen.

"Excuse me?" she asked, trying to sound tough even though she was seriously rattled.

"You heard me. I'll be waiting in the parking lot. Don't make me come back and ask again."

The adults at the table looked at her open mouthed. She figured they thought he was her boyfriend and they were about to have a big fight or something, but she was too flustered to try and explain that she didn't even know the guy. She could barely keep their drinks filled without sloshing them, her hands were shaking so much. She kept on glancing out the windows, and sure enough, he stayed out there, leaning against a big motorcycle with his massive arms crossed, just waiting. For her.

When the table left (with condescending glances and no tip), she waited a good minute and then went out to meet him, gathering up her pride and her sass to cover up how nervous she was.

"I don't know who you are or what you want from me, but you just cost me a good tip. Who are you?"

"My name doesn't matter. Eric Northman sent me."

Arlene paled and actually stumbled back a step. She clutched her hands to the front of her shirt. Was this the day she'd been dreading? Ever since she'd done that horrible thing to Sookie, she'd lived in fear that her boyfriend, that gigantic vampire, was going come for her. Arlene's heart felt like it was going to race out of her chest and her mouth turned to dust.

"I - I got children, please," she begged. "I did my time. I left all that behind me and you don't even know how sorry I am about what I did!" Her voice was shaking. "Please don't hurt me!"

"I'm not here to hurt you, woman, just delivering a message. Mr. Northman says you are not welcome in Shreveport. The sight of you offends him."

"Has he been spying on me?" Arlene squeaked.

The man looked at her like she was less than dirt. "What Mr. Northman does or does not do is not your concern, unless you don't leave Shreveport. Then it will be your concern. Do you understand what I am saying?"

Her heart sinking, she nodded, her head bowed. What choice did she have? She couldn't risk Coby or Lisa getting hurt, or worse. Lord knows what these animals would do to her children. "How long do I have," she whispered.

"A week. He says to tell you to consider that generous."

A week? Where would she go? Tears slid down her face. Defeated and in shock, she didn't leave or look up when he revved up his motorcycle and left, or even when a group of customers passed her. Bev, another waitress, came out to ask her what was wrong, but what could she say? I tried to have a friend killed and her vampire boyfriend wants to kill me now? No. She just shook her head mutely,and stumbled back inside. Taking off her apron and laying it on the counter, she got her purse and left. No use giving any notice anyway. She had more important things to think about now. Like keeping herself and her kids alive.

She didn't have the heart to tell the kids that afternoon when they got home that they had to leave. They were excited to see she was home. They happily chattered about the new friends they'd made and how they wanted to play at their houses that weekend, and she just couldn't do it. She plastered on her happy face and put it off. When they were tucked in bed she broke down and cried. All night she'd worried over where she might go. Finally she decided she'd give in and go live with her stepmomma in Monroe. The woman was a drunk, but who else did she have? Her sister was no where to be found and her daddy died years ago. She didn't have any friends. She sure as hell couldn't call on anyone in Bon Temps. She tossed and turned all night even though she was exhausted.

In the morning, she made the kids a hot breakfast and watched them get on the bus. When she closed the door, she turned to look at the phone on the wall, dreading the phone call she was about to make. Steeling her spine, she told herself she'd only live in Monroe until she got up enough to get a place of her own. Maybe in Texas or something. She could do this. She walked to the phone and picked it up.

Loud banging on her front door made her squeal and she dropped it. Rushing to the door, thinking maybe the kids left something, she looked out the peephole and nearly fainted. It was that man again! Did he come to kill her? Thank God the kids were gone!

"What do you want?" she croaked, moving away from the door to lean against the wall like she'd seen in the movies. What if he had a gun?

"I have a message from Mr. Northman."

"You already told it to me. I'm leaving, okay? I'm gonna go." She would _not_cry.

"Mr. Northman has changed the terms. Open the door."

Changed the terms? God, what now? Was he gonna make her do something nasty? "I don't think so, mister."

"I would prefer to conduct this business in private."

"I would prefer you not step foot in my house. I _will_call the police!"

Silence. Arlene crept back and peered into the peephole. The man stood there with his mouth tightly drawn., his eyes covered with shades. He came closer to the door and said in a low voice, "I can give you the new terms now or Mr. Northman can give them to you tonight in person. Your choice."

Gulping, Arlene was torn. She wrung her hands over and over. She was scared to die right now, but was even more scared to die tonight at the hands of a vampire. She opened the door a crack.

"What is it?"

"Let me in."

"No."

"I will tell Mr. Northman you prefer to hear it from him," he said, and turned to leave.

"NO!" Arlene hollered. "Okay, okay! Come in." She opened the door wide and moved to the side for him to enter. When he passed, she looked outside to see who might be watching. She wasn't sure if she was happy or glad that there was no one out. She left the door open in case she needed to scream for help.

He turned around slowly and came in a few feet, turned to her without looking at his surroundings at all and said, "Mr. Northman has decided to let you stay in Shreveport on the condition that you do not frequent any vampire establishments or attempt to contact Miss Stackhouse or anyone known to her, ever."

Stunned, she could only say, "What?"

He started again. "Mr. Northman has decided - "

"I heard you. I - I don't know what to say. Thank you." Flustered, she continued, "I mean, thank him. Mr. Northman. I'll do what he says."

"Do not thank him. Thank Miss Stackhouse." And then he walked past her and left without another word.

Numbly Arlene went to the door and shut it. She leaded against it and slowly slid to the floor. Head in her hands, she started to sob. Fear, elation, regret - too many emotions to hold inside.

She didn't go back to The Pit Stop to work. That was done. She found a little mom and pop cajun place, and had been there a few months. She was doing well enough. The kids were doing pretty good in school. She avoided all vampire places, and even vampires themselves when they came into the restaurant, though thankfully that was very rarely. She was paranoid they were checking up on her and didn't think she could survive another 'message' from Eric Northman. As it was, every time she saw a big black man dressed in leather or ridiculously tall blonde, her heart thumped in her chest.

But every day she silently sent thanks to Sookie for being a better person than she ever could be. One year out of prison today. One year of the rest of her life trying to make up for the stupidest thing she ever did. She hoped that one day she'd find true forgiveness. Maybe one day she'd be able to forgive herself.


End file.
